


kindness in small gestures

by Watermelonslibrary



Category: Xi You Ji | Journey to the West - Wu Cheng'en
Genre: Drabble, Fluff, Gen, M/M, One Shot, We need more jttw fics so I supplied, no beta we die like zane, this wasn’t supposed to become a stash fic but here we are
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-29
Updated: 2020-11-04
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:33:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 7,579
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27269536
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Watermelonslibrary/pseuds/Watermelonslibrary
Summary: Sanzang shows his eldest disciple bits of kindness throughout their journey.(Just a bunch of jttw one-shots between Sanzang and Wukong)
Relationships: Sūn Wùkōng | Monkey King/Táng Sānzàng | Tripitaka
Comments: 34
Kudos: 92





	1. grooming

**Author's Note:**

> First fic in a long time! I hope you guys enjoy it :))

He stared at the matted mess of fur in front of him. One hand held a flimsy comb he was generously given (god knows why, the monk had no hair to begin with) and the other rested firmly on his eldest deciple’s shoulder.

“Master…” he heard the monkey drawl, as he fidgeted impatiently in front of him. The monk was sitting on an old tree stump while the macaque was seated on the earthy floor of the forest they were tucked away in, his body facing away from Sanzang so the monk could get a full view of the horrible sight upon the monkey’s head. Sanzang furrowed his brows. 

This was going to be tough.

It took him forever to finally convince Wukong to let him tame the dreadful mane on his head, the months of traveling and fighting made it a sore sight to see.  _ “A monk shouldn’t look so messy!” He chided, as the lazy monkey rolled his eyes.  _

“Master, are you just going to sit there or what?” Wukong snapped him out of his thoughts, the pilgrim basically bouncing in his spot. “I’m trying to figure out how to…” he gestured at his fur “...fix this.” Wukong scrunched his nose in mild offense but didn’t say anything. Sanzang gently picked up a section of the golden fur, and pulled at it, his fingers tangling in the knots. He felt his deciple’s tail wriggle at his feet, tickling the monk’s ankle. He gently yanked at the knots, working them free, then running his fingers through another section of fur. The monkey continued to squirm, discomfort obvious on his face. Sanzang murmured strings of ‘sorrys’ as he continued to pull the biggest of knots and twigs out of his fur. 

Finally ridding Wukong’s mane of the worst tangles, Sanzang could see that Wukong’s face was twisted into a grimace but (to his surprise) he didn’t verbally protest the grooming. Now given the opportunity to use the comb in hand, the tang monk began combing the (now neater) fur, picking out bits of dirt and rock. It got easier, he noticed, and Wukong seemed to relax a bit, leaning into his touch. 

And finally,  _ finally, _ the messy fur was tangle free. As Sanzang ran the comb through his fur one last time, he suddenly realized how  _ soft _ it was when it wasn’t a mangled mess. He put the comb down, and gently ran his fingers though the golden locks. Mesmerized, he began to pull at the fur and twist it around his fingers, bunching it up into a ponytail before letting it fall to his deciple’s shoulders again. So infatuated in the soft mane, he barely caught the low cooing sound coming from the pilgrim, a foreign noise he hadn’t heard from his disciple before. 

Now focused on Wukong’s reactions, he repeated the motion, letting his nails lightly drag against his scalp, eliciting a shiver from his monkey. He did it again. Trailing gentle fingers though the thick soft fur, Wukong leaned back, pressing against his master in an attempt to receive more of the pacifying touch. Once he had his fill, the monk drew his hands away but his eyes still stayed on the monkey. They sat for a few seconds, Wukong’s tail continued to sweep back and forth with vigor. Sanzang opened his mouth to say something to his disciple before Wukong jerked his head back,  _ headbutting  _ Sanzang in the process, and peering up at his master with wide, blown pupils. The Tang monk stared down at him with the same wide eyed expression. Again, they stared at each other for a few seconds before Sanzang opened his mouth to ask “are you-”

_ “MASTER! Brother Bajie is eating all the rations again!!!”  _

The tell-tale cry of the sea demon caused Sanzang to snap his head up in alarm, to see Wujing stomping towards the pair with his hog brother held up by the back of his shirt, with a guilty look on his face. “IDIOT! That food wasn’t for you!!!” Bellowed Wukong, seeming to have snapped out of his earlier daze. He quickly leapt up and brandished his cudgel. The Idiot let out a squeal and began thrashing about, trying to escape Sandy’s grip. “I’ll beat you, you greedy pig!!!!” the monkey cried and Sanzang seemed to only be able to let out a deflated sigh. The hog successfully escaped Sandy and made a mad dash away from his eldest brother, who charged after the thief and yelled profanities behind him. 

Sanzang (now left with just Wujing, who disappeared momentarily to collect what little foodstuffs survived Bajie’s raid) let his mind drift to the feeling of Wukong’s fur between his fingers and the soft cooing the monkey made in response to his touch. He hummed, brushing his thumb against his chin. 

_ ‘maybe…’  _ he thought ‘... _ maybe I should start doing that more often…’  _

Maybe indeed. 


	2. coconut oil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanzang enjoys softness, he shows Wukong why

It was the rare moments like these that made the treacherous and grueling journey west a little more bearable. When a kind soul or considerate family allowed the pilgrims to stay the night under a solid roof, to tidy themselves up and restock for the next morning. Night had fallen and the monk and his disciples found a rather large house on the side of their path. They begged for some food to eat before they had to settle down that evening, and the little old woman who lived there insisted the travelers come in and clean themselves up. Unwilling to deny such a kind request, Tang Sanzang and the pilgrims accepted the generous offer, and went inside. 

“Thank you so much again, we can’t even begin to show how grateful we are for your hospitality” Sanzang bowed, thanking the old woman for the sixth time that night. She laughed, “oh I couldn’t leave you out in the night like that, come, come, I’ll draw a warm bath for you and your disciples.” The monk bowed again, another ‘thank you’ followed, and he and the old woman headed to the washroom so the tang monk could clean himself. Baije collapsed on the plush sofa with a groan and Wujing soon followed. The two got comfortable, letting the aches and pains of the past few days finally slip from their bodies like water. Wukong on the other hand, grew antsy. Being away from his master always made him nervous, and he wasn’t fully trusting of the old woman. She wasn’t a demon (he could tell with his truth seeing sight) but even then she could still be plotting to hurt his monk. 

“Big brother, don’t worry so much!” Baije said, “master won’t be gone for long. And if the old mother was really trying to harm him, he’s got us to protect him! Relax!” The hog, now slouched deeply into the couch, shot Wukong a lazy smile and a thumbs up, as Wujing simply nodded in agreement. He scowled at the pair and decided to sit by the entrance of the living room and stare down the hallway, waiting for his master’s return. 

— 

Sanzang let out a pleased sigh. He sank into the warm bath water letting his muscles relax, a calming scent of jasmine filled his nostrils. When he finished washing himself, he got out and wrapped himself in a soft robe and (in a fit of curiosity) peered into an adjacent room. In the room, he saw a table with a mirror perched on it, and in the middle and on the table he could see a wide variety of cosmetics. He took a seat on the plush stool that sat in front of the table and remembered what the old woman told him-  _ ‘help yourself to anything in this house, make yourself at home here!’  _ He looked at the items, he saw face powder, blush, lip tint, all kinds of makeup that he held no interest in. But one thing caught his eye. Tucked amongst the oils, there was a ceramic bowl. He gently picked up the bowl, it sat perfectly in the palm of his hand, and opened the lid. Inside was a white, jelly-like substance that smelled sweet, not too overwhelming but just sweet enough to catch his attention. He pressed his fingers into the jelly and it melted at his touch. ‘ _ Coconut oil…’  _ he hummed, a smile tugged at his lips as he dabbed the bit of oil from his fingers on his opposite hand. 

Tang Sanzang was in no way an indulgent man. He had given up superficial desires and devoted his life to Buddhism. But, even so, Sanzang loved cleanliness. He loved feeling pristine and soft, and when he got a chance to feel that way, he would thank Buddha for the blessing and indulge in his desire to feel clean. The monk rubbed little drops of coconut oil up his arms, only a small amount was needed to cover his skin. The sweet scent calmed him as he methodically rubbed the oil into his skin. 

“What  _ is  _ that stuff?” He heard a voice unnecessarily close to his ear, and he startled, a high pitched squeak escaped his mouth before he could stop it. He whipped around and his face almost collided with the furry one of his eldest disciple. Sanzang’s face was flushed a deep shade of red, and he frowned at the monkey. “You know not to sneak up on me like that!” The macaque muttered a ‘sorry’ (not that the tang monk believed it for a second) before repeating his question. “What is that stuff?” He pointed at the bowl that sat in Sanzang’s hand. 

“Nothing you would find interesting, why are you here anyways? Shouldn’t you be washing up?” 

“Thought the old lady might be plotting to kill you so I came to make sure you’re not dead or something. And I already finished cleaning myself.” Wukong’s eyes were still locked on the pot in Sanzang’s hand, but he made no attempt to grab it away from the monk. The bald man sighed, and held it out to the monkey to examine. “It’s an oil that can be used to make your skin soft,” he said as Wukong opened the lid and sniffed the jelly. He scrunched up his nose in a disgruntled fashion and poked the oil with his index finger. “It comes from coconuts and- hey! Don’t eat it!!” The monk yelped and grabbed his disiple’s wrist, yanking it away from his mouth. Wukong looked at him with a mildly surprised expression, his tongue still out from his attempt to taste the strange substance that coated his finger. Sanzang sighed, ‘ _ he’s hopeless’.  _ The monk placed the bowl on the table, pulling another stool to be in front of him, and scooped up a generous amount of oil with his two fingers. He patted the stool, then held out his other hand. “Sit down and give me your hands” he instructed the monkey. Still with the same expression as before (tongue out and everything) Wukong stared blankly at his master. Sanzang gestured with a nod of his head at the stool, and Wukong then obeyed. He sat and held out both hands, his palms facing upwards. The monk took one hand in his own and flipped it over to look at it. The golden fur covered the top of the monkey’s hand, and his palms were scarred and calloused. Sanzang gave his disiple’s hand an unconscious squeeze before flipping it over again and smoothing the coconut oil over his rough palms. Wukong’s fingers twitched at the contact, but he sat silently as the monk gently brushed his oiled fingers across the coarse skin, occasionally massaging the substance into the more calloused spots. He replaced the lid of the oil when he finished and looked up at the monkey in an attempt to gauge his reaction. Wukong stared down at his open hands, wide eyed. “It’s slimey” he said, scrunching up his nose. Sanzang chuckled and took the monkey’s hands again, rubbing his thumbs in circles on his disciple’s palms. 

“Back when I was younger, before I started on this journey, I used to use this oil regularly to soften my skin.” He flipped Wukong’s hands over, now pulling on each of the macaque’s fingers to further massage the oil into his skin. “It was a small thing I allowed myself to have, I didn’t desire it necessarily, it was just one luxury I was willing to indulge in as a monk.” Sanzang threaded his fingers between his disciple’s, allowing what little oil that was left unabsorbed to coat the creases between Wukong’s fingers. “When I started this journey, being able to have such a luxury became impossible, until now. Since the Buddha has blessed us with this house to stay in for the night, this old woman who allows us to make ourselves at home here, I can clean myself like I used to and once again, indulge in using this oil.” He looked up at the monkey, who’s eyes stayed on his and the monk’s interlocked hands. Sanzang was the first to pull away, feeling Wukong squeeze his hands (almost like he didn’t  _ want  _ the monk to pull away), before the monkey looked up at him and nodded, rubbing his hands together to feel the new softness of them. “Thank you master,” he mumbled, pressing his hands to his cheeks. 

A soft knock sounded at the door causing the two to snap out of the moment. There the old mother stood, a pot of rice in her hands. “Master Sanzang, am I interrupting something?” Sanzang shook his head quickly before standing and bowing to the old woman. “No no! You’re not interrupting anything!” The dear woman smiled, “I made you and your disciples some vegetarian food, the other two have already started eating their meal. I was wondering if you and your monkey would like to join them?” Wukong leapt up at the words of ‘meal’ and turned to his master. “Master, if we don’t hurry the old hog will eat all the food!!” Sanzang sighed and nodded, bowing (again) to the woman and thanking her. The monkey grabbed his master's arm and rushed them to the dining room, only to be met with Baije stuffing fistfuls of rice in his face. Wukong cried out angerly and began smacking his younger brother in the back of the head. Sanzang just sighed again before taking a seat at the head of the table, a warm feeling lingering in his chest. 


	3. bandages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The group rests after a particularly difficult fight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter isn’t as soft as the other two but it’s still super cute and fluffy >:) enjoy

The group had settled down for the night, tucking themselves away in a shallow cave that had been abandoned by its previous home goers. The past few days had been full of equally matched fights, ugly bruises, and frantic attempts to save Sanzang from a brutal mountain demon. Once the monk had been rescued, the group wasted no time and took off to the nearest shelter to nurse their wounds. 

Wujing had taken a good bit of the beatings, his teal-blue scales now colored deep purple with bruises and splashes of red where the demon’s lashes broke through the skin. Baije wasn’t as beat up, his plush pink body only had a couple big bruises here and there, but he walked with an ugly limp where a demon had bashed one of his legs in. Wukong (though immortal and seemingly impenetrable) had looked equally abused from the fight that took place only hours earlier. His golden fur was ruffled and split, his body ached to the high heavens. 

A fire had been built in hopes to warm the pilgrims, the two youngest disciples nursed their wounds (the Idiot squealed like a trapped pig when Wujing set his leg back in position) while Wukong was fussing over their master, tending to the ugly rope burns that littered the handsome monk’s body. 

“Wukong… Wukong I’m fine, you need to take care of your own wounds.” The monkey huffed, sitting with his legs crossed (various miscellaneous medical stuffs strone across his lap,) and his hand gently holding the other’s wrist as he wrapped gauze around the blotchy purple and red marks. Wukong paused mid-wrap to retort “master, I’m immortal remember?” He shot him a cocky grin and winked before continuing, “plus, who’s going to take care of you if I were to tend to my injuries?” Sanzang took quite a bit of offense to this (his mouth fell open with a scoff) and he yanked his hand away, cradling the half bandaged wrist to his chest. “I can take care of myself you know! I’m not incompetent!!” The monk cried, but the monkey king only grinned in amusement, resting his head in his now empty hand. The monkey radiated laziness and a lack of care in the world. “Could have fooled me Master, with you getting kidnapped every step of the way.” “Hey! That’s not fair! I’m not an all powerful being like you!

I can’t defend myself the way you and your brothers can!!” He jabbed Wukong in the stomach earning a wince from the monkey. “And you are hurt. See?” He jabbed him again. The monkey king scowled and held his stomach. “That’s because you're poking me so hard, you know.” Sanzang shook his head. “You got hurt during that fight you had with the mountain demon. Here, let me see.” Catching the dear monkey king off guard, he grabbed the old tattered shirt and pulled him closer. Unable to protest, the monkey toppled forward, falling on his knees (his body dangerously close to the monk’s). Without regard, Sanzang  _ yanked  _ the bottom of the shirt up, exposing Wukong’s middle. The monkey yelped and pulled the shirt back down. “ _ MASTER!!”  _ He cried, “have you gone mad???” The other two disciples perked up to the cries of their elder brother, but once seeing he and the monk were in no danger, they lost interest and went back to their own devices. 

“Monkey, you don’t take care of yourself!” 

“I don’t have to, I’m immortal!!” 

“That doesn't mean you can't get hurt, you bad monkey!!” 

The two bickered back and forth until they finally came to an agreement. Wukong would finish bandaging the monk’s rope burns, and Sanzang would get to check the monkey’s body for any worrying bruises or cuts. The monkey began tending to his master again, bandaging up his angry red wrists and ankles. When finished, the monk snatched the gauze away from Wukong and grabbed his shirt again. Wukong rolled his eyes and complied, lifting his shirt up to expose his middle again. The monk brushed his warm hand over the monkey’s stomach, parting the fur that covered it to check for any injuries. The only thing he saw were small bruises, barely anything that required any medical attention. The monk was stubborn, Wukong knew that. He was going to find an injury and tend to it if it was the last thing he did. 

“Master, I don’t understand why it matters to you. You’re fine and we’re all alive, isn’t that enough?” This statement caught Sanzang off guard, and he stopped what he was doing (hand now on the monkey’s chest). “What do you mean ‘isn’t that enough’?” 

Wukong shrugged. “You’re the most important one on this journey. Why does it matter to you if we get banged up a bit?” 

And with that comment, the monkey earned a firm smack on the head. 

“For a being as old as you, you’re very stupid.” 

Wukong rubbed his head and scowled, but before he could retort, the monk continued. “You and your brothers are very important in this journey! The only reason I’m still alive is because of you four.” He lifted his hand from the monkey’s chest and scooped the king’s hands up in his own. “ _ You  _ are the reason I’m still alive. And not only that, you and your brothers mean so much to me  _ as family.  _ We journeyed so far together, I couldn’t imagine this part of my life without you.” The monk had once again left Wukong speechless. They stared at each other, hands clasped together. Monkey furrowed his brows and looked down at their hands, as if he was trying to digest what was said to him. 

“Do you really believe I don’t  _ care  _ about you, Sun Wukong?” 

The monkey looked up again, Sanzang’s soft brown eyes meeting his gaze. He felt lightheaded. 

And with that, Wukong laughed, pulling his hands away. “Wow master, I didn’t realize you were so soft!!!” He rolled back, a string of giggles followed. Sanzang scowled again and crossed his arms. “I’m not that soft!” 

“Sure thing master,” the monkey laughed, “you’re hard as stone!” The monk puffed out his cheeks, face flushing a soft pink. “Go to bed you bad monkey, we need to get going on our journey early tomorrow!!” Wukong continued giggling, and waved his hand dismissively. The two finally settled down, but Wukong found himself unable to sleep. He stared out at the stars that speckled the night sky and repeated what the monk had told him in his head over and over. 

_ ‘I couldn’t imagine this part of my life without you.’  _

Sun Wukong couldn’t either. 


	4. clumsiness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tang Sanzang is a clumsy man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize if my fic feels very slow paced and non-progressive. I’ll get somewhere with this here soon.

“Master is so clumsy.” Bajie said to his youngest brother, amusement thick in his voice. Wujing turned to look at Sanzang who seemed to trip over his own cassock for the third time that day. Wukong held his arms out to catch the monk before he faceplanted into the rocky dirt. Wujing shook his head and scowled at the chuckling pig. “Brother Bajie, it’s rude to laugh at master like that. It’s not his fault he’s a little weak in the legs.” 

Bai Long had grown tired of walking up the steep, rocky terrain while carrying Sanzang. The dragon horse kept huffing and stumbling, and his master finally hopped off his back and insisted on walking the rest of the way so Bai Long could keep following without any trouble. But now, as Sanzang tripped over another rock, he realized that maybe that wasn’t the smartest choice for him. 

“Master…” Wukong started, but cut himself off with a fit of giggles. Sanzang shot his disciple a threatening look. Wukong only grinned wider and continued to giggle. The master didn’t respond, and with a determined look kept going despite his occasional stumble (his robes now bunched up to his knees in an attempt to keep them out of his way). Wukong kept his hands outstretched in case the bald man were to trip again, but Sanzang pulled himself away from the monkey.  _ ‘Stubborn old monk is going to break his nose next time he falls! See how he likes it, maybe then he won’t be so hot to refuse my help!’  _ Monkey giggled at the thought and let his arms drop. 

They continued on, at a painfully slow pace, the only problems being Bai Long occasionally getting snagged by a rock. 

Until- 

_ Whump  _

Sanzang tripped again, and this time he didn’t have any arms to fall into. He fell to his knees with a thud, and all 3 of his disciples cried out. “MASTER!!!” The pilgrims dropped their belongings and hurried over to fuss over him. 

“Master! Are you alright??” 

“Oh how terrible! How will we finish the journey now???” 

“Shut up Idiot!!!! Master, are you hurt?” 

Sanzang groaned and waved the 3 away. “I’m fine I’m fine…” he pulled his legs out from under him so that he was sitting firmly on his bottom. His hands were scuffed from catching himself and his knees looked worse. The pants he wore under his cassock were torn, revealing bloody skin underneath. How terrible! The blood continued to seep out of the scuffed knees, soaking his pants at a frightening pace. Baije squealed. “MASTER IS GOING TO DIE!!!” 

Wukong clocked the pig upside his head and yelled “He’s not going to die!!!!!” The stubborn monk stood up and glared at the trio. “For a group of vicious demons, you all freak out at the sight of a little blood?” 

“Master, you should get back on little brother. You’re bleeding a lot.” 

Sanzang huffed. “I’m fine! It’s just a little scratch. I’ve been through much worse getting kidnapped by demons! Where was all your worry when that happened??” 

Wukong rolled his eyes and hitched one arm under his masters knees and the other around his back. He hoisted him up into his arms like a bride. The monk yelped and began beating against the monkey’s chest in an attempt to struggle free. “Bad monkey!!!! Put me down!!! I can walk by myself!!!” 

“Hah! Master, you lie! You can’t walk without tripping over your own two feet.” The monkey grinned at the man in his arms, and Sanzang just grumbled something along the lines of “tripping on rocks, can walk just fine,” and “stupid monkey” Wukong simply held his master closer with an elated look on his face. Thus, the journey continued. 

“Wow, big brother looks so happy to carry master like that.” 

Wujing just looked at his pig brother. “Bajie, you shouldn’t comment so much on the way big brother acts towards master. You might get a beating from him if he hears you” Bajie simply shrugged in response. 

Wukong continued leading the group with his master in his arms. Sanzang began to feel the strong stinging pain in his knees, the numbness of the initial impact finally wearing off. He looped his arms around the monkey carrying him and buried his face in the golden fur. Tang Sanzang may be a strong willed man, but his body definitely wasn’t of equal strength. His pain tolerance was small, and the missing flesh on his knees was testing that level of tolerance. “Master… master… are you feeling alright?” The monkey said (his tone much softer than usual) as he gave the monk a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Sanzang simply nodded, face still buried in the other’s shoulder. He had gathered up fistfuls of the monkey’s fur in a fit of pain but eventually relaxed once he had gotten used to it. 

“You’re very soft you know.” 

“Eh?” 

The monk turned his head, still resting on his shoulder but now his face was pressed against the monkey’s neck. “You’re soft, and you smell like the earth.” His voice was muffled by the golden fur. 

“Oh.” Wukong mumbled. He paused, and then said “Well you smell sweet. Like sandalwood.” Sanzang chuckled (his warm breath against Wukong’s neck made the monkey’s face flush red) “it’s probably the prayer beads. They’re made of sandalwood.” He gently put a hand on the opposite side of Wukong’s neck and ran his fingers through the fur. Resisting the urge to react to the touch, Wukong simply pressed his cheek on the man’s head affectionately, before straightening back up to focus on the path ahead. 

Sanzang’s fingers didn’t untangle from the monkey’s fur until they reached a safe location to rest for the night. 


	5. have you ever been in love?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tang Sanzang asks Wukong a rather surprising question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This feels rushed I’m very sorry, wanted to pick up the pace with this chapter!

Tang Sanzang sat cross-legged in a small clearing surrounded by tall trees that gently swayed in the midsummer night wind. It was late, but the full moon perfectly illuminated the patch the monk sat in (in an almost  _ holy  _ manner). And there he meditated, listening to the soft sounds of sleeping nature around him, the gentle wind, the cicada’s song, the occasional hoot of an owl. It was peaceful. It was perfect. 

Moments passed and something suddenly felt slightly amiss. Like he was being watched. It broke him out of his meditative trance and he quickly turned, a rush of panic prickling up his throat. But the panic died down almost as fast as it had arrived when he saw the familiar faint glow of fiery eyes tucked in the trees. “Sun Wukong… it’s rude to watch someone without them knowing.” 

The eyes blinked. Seconds later the sound of rustling leaves was heard and a soft  _ thump  _ as something hit the ground. The monkey made his way into the clearing, bits of leaves sticking out of his otherwise tame fur. The monk patted the ground beside him, and the monkey obliged, walking soundlessly over to the spot close to his master and flopped (rather ungracefully) on the earth floor. 

“It’s late.” 

“I know.” 

“You should be asleep Master, why are you up?” 

The monk hummed and closed his eyes. “I couldn’t sleep.” Wukong furrowed his brows as if unsatisfied with that answer. “Is that all?” Sanzang turned again to face the monkey. “Why are you up, monkey? Shouldn’t  _ you  _ be sleeping?” Wukong scratched his neck (scrunching his nose as if thinking about the question he was asked) and said “well, I was resting my eyes for a bit and when I opened them you were gone. I thought a demon kidnapped you.” The monk hummed again. “I couldn’t sleep so I just went off to meditate. Nothing more.” And with that, Sanzang faced forward again and closed his eyes. Wukong didn’t say anything else. 

“You’re staring, Wukong.” 

The monkey’s ear twitched. “You look so peaceful like that.” 

“It’s rude to stare.” Sanzang sighed. Mediating with that monkey beside him was going to be impossible. “What’s on your mind Wukong?” The tang monk asked in hopes to strike up a conversation (maybe talking with the monkey will tire him out). “Nothing really. Just waiting for you to go back to sleep.” The monkey drawled and looked at him lazily. Sanzang scowled at that. 

“Have you ever been in love?” 

The question felt like it had popped out of nowhere, and it caught the monkey king so off guard all he could do is stare at his master, mouth slightly agape. “In love?” He echoed stupidly. 

“Yes, in love.” The monk replied. 

Wukong straightened his back and sat silent for a few seconds before responding. “That depends. What kind of love are you talking about? If you’re talking about famillital love for another then yes.” The tang monk nodded, and asked “famillital love? Do you have family at home?” Wukong grinned. “Oh yes Master, I do. All my little monkeys on Flower Fruit Mountain are my family. I have sons, daughters, grandsons, granddaughters, great grandsons, and so on! They’re all my family and I love them deeply.” Talking about the monkeys on Flower Fruit Mountain left a wistful smile on the monkey king's face. “And any other kind of love?” Sanzang asked. “Well, I love my brothers, Bajie and Wujing. And Bai Long too.” The monk smiled and nodded at that. “Your family is very dear to you, I can see that.” Wukong grinned at the monk. “They are, I would do anything for them.” Sanzang closed his eyes again, a soft smile still on his face. The monkey could only stare at his master in his meditative state. 

“I love you too, Master.” 

The monk was quickly pulled back into reality with that statement. He snapped his head to the side and gave Wukong a wide eyed look. 

“You see me as family?” 

Wukong quickly nodded, leaning closer to the monk. “And as so much more! I would do anything for you, I truly  _ love  _ you, master.”

The words lingered between them as Sanzang tried to fight the blush that quickly spread across his face. The monkey seemed oblivious to the  _ true  _ meaning of what he had just said to the monk, he simply smiled  _ a genuine loving smile  _ at his master. Without much thought the monk gently placed his hand on the monkey’s cheek, Wukong happily obliged and leaned into the touch. He brought his eldest disciple’s face to his, allowing their foreheads to bump together. 

_ His heart pounded in his chest, he could hear the blood rush in his ears and flushed heat cover his face. ‘I truly love you, master. I truly love you, master, I truly love-’  _

“Master?” 

“I love you too, Sun Wukong.” 


	6. stubbornly oblivious (pt 1)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath of a particularly difficult kidnapping leads to certain pilgrims having to come to terms with their feelings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a two part one-shot :)   
> I think I’m going to end this here, these are all little one-shots I put together so my next slash fic between these two is going to be an actual multi-chapter story.

Sun Wukong was a monkey. And, as monkey’s tend to be by nature, he was a very physically affectionate creature. His displays of physical affection ranged from a gentle hand resting on his master's lower back or thigh (in the case of Sanzang sitting on Bai Long), to cuddling shamelessly up against the monk during their periods of rest. 

Sun Wukong was a monkey. So, when the monkey saw his master for the first time after being held hostage by a demon for who knows how many days, and planted a firm wet  _ kiss  _ on the monk's lips,  _ that  _ was what Tang Sanzang repeated to himself when the group continued journeying West. 

When he thought of the kiss his disciple gave him, it made him woozy. He felt light headed and a warm, fluttery feeling filled the pit of his stomach. He gently touched his lips, applying just the right amount of pressure to mimic the kiss he was given. That made him dizzy too. 

His disciples must have noticed the far away look on their master’s face because Wujing quickly called for a break (it was getting late anyways). 

As the pilgrims gathered around the small fire, spooning scoops of congee into their little wood bowls, the fish finally spoke up about the problem at hand. 

“I think Master might be sick.” Wujing mumbled to his elder brother. 

“Sick??? How so?” Bajie whispered back in alarm. 

“He looks like he’s going to faint, and his face is very red. He might have a fever!” 

Wukong frowned at that. “We can’t keep going if Master is sick, we have to get some herbs to heal him.” 

When the meeting concluded, the three disciples decided that Bajie would go out and beg for healing herbs while Wukong and Wujing stayed with Master to find out what was ailing him. 

“Master…” Wujing held out a bowl of warm congee for the monk to eat, and Sanzang took it gratefully. 

“Thank you Wujing. Tell me, where is your brother going?” He gestured at the pig that scurried off (at this point he was too far gone for the monk to call him back). 

“Ah, he’s…” the fish demon paused. “He’s going to beg for healing herbs, Master.” 

“Healing herbs? What for?” Alarm quickly flooded the monk. “Is one of my disciples sick??” 

“Oh no Master! Not us…” Wujing looked at Sanzang with an odd expression before continuing. “Master,  _ you’re  _ sick. You’ve been acting faint all day, and your face is a horrible shade of red. You keep staring off in the distance and you’ve almost fallen off of brother Bai Long twice!” 

Sanzang’s face quickly flushed crimson. Wujing gasped and cried “see??? Your face is red again! You must be terribly sick, and it’s only getting worse!” The cry alerted Wukong (who had been sitting up in a tree to keep an eye out for any suspicious characters), who appeared at his brother’s side in a matter of seconds.

Without warning, Wukong grasped Sanzang’s cheeks and pulled his face closer to his own. The blood continued to rush to the monk’s cheeks as his eldest disciple’s fiery eyes seemed to analyze every aspect of the monk’s handsome visage. “Brother Wujing is right Master, your face is terribly hot and you look woozy. You must have caught some horrible illness when that demon kidnapped you.” He released the monk’s face and sat back on his haunches. Wujing stood up and said “I will go get some cool water from a stream. Maybe that will make your fever go down. Elder brother, look after master.” The monkey simply waved the fish off dismissively, but his piercing eyes never left Sanzang’s own. 

The two stared at each other for what felt like hours. 

Wukong was the first to break the silence. 

“Master, are you really feeling ill? Or is this something else?” 

Sanzang swallowed roughly. “I’m not ill Wukong, I’m just…” he trailed off as if not knowing how to finish the sentence. The monkey tipped his head to the side, letting it rest lazily on his palm. He continued to stare at the monk. 

“I’m just a little overwhelmed by the last kidnapping, that’s all.” 

“Ah.” 

He sounded almost… disappointed by the answer. The monkey stood up and moved closer to the monk, where he unceremoniously plopped down by his side. The Monkey King’s arm bumped against the other’s, and Wukong let his head fall on his Master’s shoulder. 

“Master?” 

“Yes, Wukong?” 

You were gone for five nights, you know.” 

“Really? Five nights?” Sanzang echoed. 

He was genuinely shocked by that, the demon had locked him in a cage underground so he had no concept of time during his imprisonment. He simply meditated and recited his sutras, knowing that his eldest disciple would be there to retrieve him soon. “I didn’t realize I was gone for so long.” 

The monkey nodded, his thick golden fur tickled the monk’s neck. When he felt his eldest disciple further press himself against his master almost  _ desperately _ , Sanzang gently placed his hand on the monkey’s knee hoping to reassure him of his presence. 

It was no secret that Sun Wukong was always the most affected by the frequent kidnappings. Each time a demon or spirit swooped down and took the monk, Wukong  _ always  _ took it harder than the rest of the disciples. 

This was something Tang Sanzang was very aware of. 

It was also no secret that the reason why he was so affected by the evil acts was because Sun Wukong cared deeply for the man. Sun Wukong  _ loved  _ the man. Sun Wukong couldn’t care less about redemption anymore, he only cared about the safety of his  _ master.  _

And  _ this  _ was something that Sanzang was stubbornly oblivious to. 

So, when the monkey picked up the monk’s hand and held it in his own, bringing it up to his face and gently pressing his cheek against his Master’s knuckles, Tang Sanzang repeated to himself- 

Sun Wukong is a monkey. And monkey’s, by nature, are very physically affectionate creatures. 


	7. stubbornly oblivious (part 2)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanzang must confront his feelings for his disciple.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is not good to me, I think I’m gonna write one more to do myself justice. I just really hate the way this one turned out.

After a bit of fretting, the pilgrims decided their master was well enough to continue journeying. The strange illness didn't seem to get better, but the monk wasn’t getting any sicker either and that was enough to convince the pilgrims they could keep heading West. So, the group got back on the road with no time wasted. 

Tang Sanzang could feel his newfound emotions getting worse the longer they travelled. The tight feeling in his chest only seemed to get tighter around his eldest disciple and he felt more and more dizzy each time the monkey would touch him. When Wukong talked, all Sanzang could hear was the pounding of his own heart in his ears, he found himself zoning out during travel just  _ thinking  _ about the monkey king (causing him to fall off Bai Long more than once). 

The monk was holy. His entire life was dedicated to Buddha. He was devoted and wouldn’t trade what he had for the world.  _ But _ , now the monk was faced with a terrible, terrible realization— 

He was in  _ love.  _

As much as he resisted the warmth that spread through his entire body when he was near Sun Wukong, he was forced to accept the glaringly obvious fact that Tang Sanzang, the Buddhist monk, the  _ celibate  _ Buddhist monk, was in love with his eldest disciple. He spent his entire life refusing it (for love is want and want brings misery), but he was suddenly overcome with the desire to love and be loved when he least expected it. 

And with this, his internal turmoil only grew worse. 

As well as he tried to hide it (and he didn’t hide it well), his struggle did not go unnoticed. Sun Wukong wasn’t as stupid as many people thought. He was cunning, observant, and sharp minded, but this was greatly shadowed by his arrogance and impulsiveness. 

When his master started acting ill, it didn’t take him long to realize that the behavior only got worse when he was around. So he decided, as his master's best protector, it was his job to find out what was causing this problem and crush it before it killed the fragile monk. 

— 

Another uneventful day passed into night and the pilgrims settled down in a wooded area just outside a small town. They had decided to hunker down in the little forest that surrounded the town instead of continuing forward, just in case any demons tried to kidnap the poor monk and ruin a kidnapping-free day. 

The tang monk and his disciples quickly tended to their assigned tasks. Wujing made some vegetarian food for the group to eat, Baije checked and restocked supplies, Sanzang built a small fire to keep them warm, and Wukong surveyed the area for any suspicious characters that might be wandering by. Once each pilgrim had their fill of congee, the younger disciples settled down to sleep. 

Tang Sanzang sat beside the fire with his eyes closed and legs crossed in an attempt to meditate, but his mind was filled with the dizzying thoughts of a certain  _ someone _ . 

Not long after the others had gone to bed he heard a gentle rustle of tree branches pulling him back into reality. He looked up to where noise came from and saw Wukong drop to the ground from the tall tree he was perched on and make his way to his master. 

This was a regular nightly occurrence. When the rest of the disciples settled down for the night Wukong would climb down from the tree he stationed himself in and sit by his master to keep him company. Some nights they would chat, and other nights (usually the ones that followed a kidnapping or intense fight) they would silently bask in each other’s presence and lean against one another in comfort. 

But this time it was different. 

This time, when Wukong plopped down next to his master, there was an uncomfortable tension that hung between them. 

They sat in silence for a bit before Wukong spoke. 

“Master, have I upset you?” 

He asked, his voice wavered ever so slightly. 

Sanzang stared wide eyed at his disciple. “Upset me…? Why do you think you’ve upset me, Wukong?” The monkey turned to face his master fully, straightening his body and sitting on his knees. 

“Your sickness only worsens when I am near you, you don’t talk to me as much anymore and you seem to no longer enjoy my presence. I thought I had done something to offend you,” he fell forward and kowtowed to the monk. 

“I am truly sorry Master if I have upset you so much that you become ill every time you're around me.” 

Sanzang sat confused for a few seconds before he was suddenly struck with a sickening realization.

He knew he had been acting strange recently but he didn’t realize how it must have looked to Wukong. Avoiding him and talking to him less, in his inner struggle it never dawned on him that he was pushing the monkey away. 

He quickly grabbed his disciple by the shoulders and forced him up from the kowtow to look him in the eyes. 

“Sun Wukong,” he breathed, feeling his throat begin to tighten up. 

“Sun Wukong, it’s not like that, I’m so sorry I made you think-” Sanzang shook his head and took the monkey’s hands in his own. “I love you. I love you so much it  _ hurts _ .” 

Wukong frowned. 

“Master, you’re very confusing.” The monkey huffed. “You seem to hate being around me, so if you love me why do you avoid me?” 

“ _ No  _ Wukong, I was avoiding you  _ because  _ I love you. I love you and it  _ scares  _ me. Do you understand?” 

The confused look only deepened.

“Wukong I-” he started. 

Nothing he said was going to make sense to the monkey. 

So, Tang Sanzang took a deep breath and did something he swore to Buddha he would not do. He gave in to desire. 

The monk moved his hands from the monkey’s own and brought them to his neck, tangling his fingers in the soft golden fur. He pulled his disciple towards him, leaning forward to meet him halfway and- 

It was awkward. And embarrassing. But the Buddhist monk found himself pressing his lips on the edge of the other’s mouth in a short but firm kiss before jerking his head back. 

Sanzang felt his entire body heat up while Wukong stared at the man in awe with wide, blown eyes. The pair stayed like that for what felt like eternity, both with the same shocked expressions on their faces. 

Until Wukong silently, almost  _ eagerly,  _ cupped both sides of Sanzang’s jaw and brought himself closer to meet the other man’s lips. The monk’s breath hitched in his throat but he returned the kiss with vigour (being unversed in an act like this was a minor setback for the tang monk). 

Their noses bumped together awkwardly before Wukong tipped his head to the side and took the monk’s mouth in a fierce kiss, opening his own slightly to brush his tongue over Sanzang’s lips. It was short and simple, but dizzyingly sweet. 

When they separated, Sanzang could only cling desperately to the monkey, fistfuls of his fur bunched in his hands. 

“Master? Are you alright?” Wukong whispered, bringing his hands up to the other’s arms to steady him. 

“Yes,” Sanzang breathed out, letting his head fall forward to rest against Wukong’s forehead. 

“Yes, I’m alright.” 

_ “When I told you ‘I love you’ that night we sat together under the stars, I meant every word I said.”  _

  
  



End file.
